Killing Patton: The Strange Death of World War II's Most Audacious General

by Bill O'Reilly

  Roosevelt endorses the new group. His typewritten reply is signed, simply, “FDR.”

  And so the Central Intelligence Agency is born.

  * * *

  As history will show, both Roosevelt and Donovan are taking their eyes off the ball much too early. Adolf Hitler and the armies of Nazi Germany are far from conquered. As Wild Bill Donovan strategizes about postwar power consolidation, Wehrmacht soldiers, guns, and tanks are quietly grouping near the German border. They do so under strict radio silence, lest the Americans hear their chatter and anticipate the biggest surprise attack since Pearl Harbor.

  The Germans face west, toward the American lines, and the thick wilderness in Belgium known as the Ardennes Forest. It is here that U.S. forces are weakest, because it is assumed that an attack through this primeval wood is impossible. To tilt the odds even further in the Germans’ favor, it has been ascertained that George Patton and his Third Army are more than one hundred miles southeast, still in dire need of gasoline, guns, and soldiers—and still unable to conquer Metz.

  Hitler and his generals are sure that Operation Watch on the Rhine will be a successful counterattack that not even the great George Patton can thwart. The Nazis are poised to turn defeat into victory with this counterattack and the development of a new atomic weapon that Hitler believes is almost ready.

  The Führer is still certain of ultimate victory.

  Very certain.

  6

  WAR ROOM

  THIRD ARMY HEADQUARTERS

  NANCY, FRANCE

  DECEMBER 9, 1944

  7:00 A.M.

  Col. Oscar Koch thinks that Hitler is up to something.

  The G-2, as General Patton’s top intelligence officer1 is known in military parlance, is certain that the German army is far from defeated. In fact, he is the only intelligence officer on the Allied side who believes that the Wehrmacht is poised to launch a withering Christmas counteroffensive.

  Only, until now, nobody will listen to him.

  The sun has not yet risen on what promises to be yet another bitter cold and wet day in eastern France. Koch stands amid the countless maps lining the walls of his beloved War Room, thirty miles south of the front lines. The forty-six-year-old career soldier stands ramrod straight. He is bald, and wears thick glasses that give him a professorial air.

  Just a few feet away, George S. Patton sits in a straight-backed wooden chair as Koch begins the morning intelligence briefing. Patton wears a long overcoat and scarf to ward off the cold, even indoors. He is pensive, and eager to be once again on the attack. In just ten days, Patton is launching his Operation Tink, a bold new offensive that will take the Third Army into the heart of Nazi Germany for the first time. Metz has finally fallen after two long months of battle. Patton systematically worked his way toward Metz, bypassing the network of forts as needed, while at the same time depriving their inhabitants of food and water. Fort Driant surrendered on December 8, 1944. The invasion of Germany now awaits. Patton plans to cross the Rhine and press hard toward Frankfurt, then on to Berlin.

  Unlike many generals, who plan an attack without first consulting their G-2, Patton relies heavily on Koch.

  And with good reason. A humble veteran soldier who worked his way up through the ranks, Koch is perhaps the most driven man on Patton’s staff. He is consumed with the task of collecting information on every aspect of the battlefield. Koch arranges for reconnaissance planes to fly over enemy positions, and then has a team of draftsman construct precise terrain maps of the towns, rivers, railway lines, fence lines, creeks, farm buildings, bridges, and other obstacles that might slow down the Third Army’s advance.

  Koch also arranges for German-speaking American soldiers to exchange their military uniforms for peasant clothing at night and travel behind enemy lines, mingling in bars and restaurants to collect information about Wehrmacht troop movements.

  And Koch and his team carefully scrutinize data radioed back from the front lines by American patrols.

  Every bit of that information comes together in the War Room’s centerpiece, an enormous series of maps detailing the entire Western Front. British, American, Canadian, French, and German positions are all carefully marked.

  The maps’ transparent acetate coverings are marked in grease pencil, with special notations for armored, infantry, and artillery. Each unit is denoted by a special symbol. Once an army is on the move, its progress is closely tracked. A rag made wet with alcohol wipes the acetate clean, and a unit’s new location is once again marked in grease pencil. In this way, Col. Oscar Koch knows with almost pinpoint accuracy the location of every tank, howitzer, airfield, fuel dump, supply depot, railway station, and infantry detachment between Antwerp and Switzerland.

  And that, Koch now explains to Patton as the general listens with his usual intensity, is what troubles him. There is something missing.

  The Third Army’s proposed route across the Rhine and into Germany is defended by a small and vulnerable German force. So, in all likelihood, Patton’s Operation Tink will begin as a rousing success—though Koch never goes out on a limb to predict a victory. War is too uncertain. But, Koch goes on to point out, a real problem lies farther north, on what will be the Third Army’s left flank during Operation Tink.

  In particular, Koch is wary of an enormous German troop buildup. Despite the fact that the roads are empty during daylight hours, Koch has discovered that thirteen enemy infantry divisions have been relocated under cover of darkness to an area near the Ardennes Forest. This means there are an additional two hundred thousand Wehrmacht soldiers at the very location where the U.S. lines are thinnest. German forces in the Ardennes currently outnumber Americans by more than two to one.

  In addition, advance scouts from the U.S. First Army report that they hear the rumble of truck engines and the heavy clank of tank treads coming through the forest from the German lines. Koch has confirmed that five Panzer divisions containing some five hundred tanks recently moved toward the Ardennes. German railway cars loaded with men and ammunition are proceeding toward the Ardennes with increasing frequency. Just three days ago, the Allies intercepted a coded message showing that a major German fighting force had requested fighter plane protection as it moved troops and supplies toward the Ardennes.

  Perhaps spookiest of all: the Germans have shrouded this major movement in complete radio silence.

  Koch doesn’t have to remind Patton that radio silence usually precedes an attack.

  Patton quietly absorbs what Koch has to say, sometimes taking notes or interrupting with a specific question. He thinks that Koch is “the best damned intelligence officer in any United States command,” but almost every single other Allied intelligence analyst believes the Germans are too beaten down to launch a major offensive.

  Should it take place, a German attack would be launched against positions currently occupied by the U.S. First Army, but Col. Benjamin “Monk” Dickson, the First’s G-2, is not concerned. He will later claim that he foresaw the German attack, but at this moment he behaves as if he doesn’t believe that the Germans pose a threat. Dickson, too, has been told of the hundreds of Panzers, the railway cars packed with elite SS divisions, and the recent appearance of Messerschmitt fighter planes in the sky after months of Allied air superiority. Dickson considers the German movements to be a regular rotation of troops in and out of the area.

  This lack of concern is mirrored throughout the highest levels of the Allied command. British field marshal Bernard Montgomery writes to a fellow British general that Hitler “is fighting a defensive campaign on all fronts. He cannot stage a major offensive operation.” Monty is so certain there will not be a surprise attack that he is making plans to return home to London for Christmas.

  Col. Oscar Koch is the only man who believes that the Germans are ready to attack.

  “Although the Allied offensive is destroying weekly a number of German divisions,” Koch notes, “the enemy has been able to maintain a coherent front without drawing
on the full of his infantry and armored reserves, thereby giving him the capability to mount a spoiling offensive in an effort to unhinge the Allied assault on Festung Deutschland.”

  Koch ends his briefing. Patton’s excitement about Operation Tink is temporarily set aside as he absorbs the heavy weight of this new information. Koch is a cautious man and reluctant to speculate, preferring to speak in hard facts. His certainty about a major new German attack means a great deal.

  Patton remains seated for quite some time, silently pondering the situation. Despite aggressive Third Army patrols into Germany’s Saar region in the past few weeks, there has been almost no enemy resistance. This is very unusual. The Germans normally fight viciously for every inch of ground. Patton knows that ever since the time of Julius Caesar, when Germanic tribes battled the Romans, the Germans were fond of going on the offensive and employing unique tactics to gain the element of surprise. Patton finds himself reminded of the story of “the dog that did not bark,” in which a cunning predator conceals himself before suddenly lunging out to fight his victim. Patton wonders if Hitler is playing such a deadly game.

  But Patton is conflicted. The lack of clear-cut intelligence is easily explained. The German army is now based in its own country, rather than in a hostile nation such as France. The local citizens are patriots who will not spy on their own soldiers, as the French Resistance movement has done so successfully. And because German telephone lines are still largely intact, achieving radio silence is as simple as ordering all military officers to use the telephone instead of the radio. Seen from this perspective, the behavior of the German army is completely logical. The warnings of Col. Oscar Koch might be an exercise in paranoia.

  Patton still has every intention of launching Operation Tink on December 19. It will be glorious, starting with the biggest aerial bombardment the Americans have ever poured down on the German army. He finally has the bridging material necessary for his tanks and men to continue their winter offensive for as long as their guns and their gasoline will take them. With any luck, the war might be over by New Year’s Eve after all.

  But what if Koch is right? What if there is danger on the Third Army’s northern flank?

  Finally, Patton stands to leave. He orders that in addition to fine-tuning the last-minute details of Operation Tink, planning is to begin immediately on emergency measures to rescue Gen. Courtney Hodges and his First Army should the Germans attack to the north in the Ardennes Forest. If that happens, “Our offensive will be called off,” he tells his staff. “And we’ll have to go up there and save their hides.”

  Patton’s private sentiments indicate serious concern. “First Army is making a terrible mistake,” he worried in his diary two weeks ago. “It is highly probable the Germans are building up east of them.”

  * * *

  As General Patton leaves the War Room, Colonel Koch goes back to the endless business of acquiring information. It is a skill that he will one day put to good use while working for the CIA. For now, he is most pleased that General Patton wants the Third Army to be “in a position to meet whatever happens.”

  But Patton needs to do more than just make backup plans. He calls Gen. Dwight Eisenhower and passes on Koch’s assessment. Ike, in turn, passes this on to his own G-2, Gen. Kenneth Strong, who relays Patton’s concerns to the First Army.

  Where the warning is promptly ignored.

  7

  GERMAN FRONT LINES

  DECEMBER 16, 1944

  5:29 A.M.

  Sunrise is still two hours away. The morning sky is completely black, without even moon or starlight. German artillery crews stand at their guns, making happy small talk and stomping their feet to keep warm. Their cheeks sting from the record December cold. They have been awake for hours, waiting for this moment. Someday they will tell their grandchildren about the great instant when Unternehmen Wacht am Rhein (Operation Watch on the Rhine) commenced, and how they were among the lucky gunners who fired the first rounds into the American lines, turning the tide of war in favor of the Fatherland, once and for all. They will regale their descendants about the brilliant deception that allowed a quarter million men, more than seven hundred tanks, and thousands of huge artillery pieces to remain camouflaged in the Ardennes Forest for weeks. And these young soldiers will talk about the glory of the surprise attack that split the American and British armies, and then the relentless push to reclaim the strategically vital port city of Antwerp. Next, Adolf Hitler successfully sued for peace with the west, thereby preserving the Third Reich and preventing an Allied invasion of the German homeland. With the Americans and British neutralized, Hitler activated step two of Operation Watch on the Rhine and launched his legendary second attack against Stalin and Russia that defeated the Communists.

  That is the story they hope to tell.

  But all that is in the future. Right now these young Germans are eager, awaiting the command to rain down hellfire on their enemies.

  At 5:30 a.m. that order is delivered. Up and down the eighty-mile German front lines, some sixteen hundred pieces of field artillery open fire. The silent forest explodes, and muzzle blasts light the sky as the furnaces of hell are thrown open. “Screaming Meemie” rockets screech into the darkness, a deadly sound that American soldiers everywhere find unnerving. And big 88 mm guns fire their fifteen-inch-long shells at targets almost ten miles away, hitting U.S. positions before they even know they’re being fired upon. Every German soldier within a hundred yards is rendered temporarily deaf from the noise. Hand gestures replace the spoken word.

  SS Obersturmbannführer Otto Skorzeny has never once fired an artillery piece, but he has waited for this moment just as eagerly as those men manning the big guns. His life has been a whirlwind of activity since his meeting with the Führer less than two months ago. For his special role in Operation Greif, as the offensive is known, he has scoured the ranks of the German military for men who speak English. He has outfitted these men in American uniforms, and acquired American tanks, trucks, and jeeps to help them travel effortlessly behind U.S. lines. Their ultimate goal is to make their way through this rugged, snow-covered terrain as quickly as possible to capture three vital bridges over the Meuse River. But their more immediate task is to sow seeds of confusion throughout the American lines. They will spread rumors and misinformation, tear down road signs, and do everything in their power to mislead the Americans as the German army pours into the Ardennes Forest.

  The problem facing Skorzeny is that the Americans know all about Operation Greif. Shortly after his Wolf’s Lair meeting with Hitler, some idiot in the Wehrmacht high command circulated a notice up and down the Western Front: “Secret Commando Operations,” the directive stated in bold letters at the top of the page. “The Führer has ordered the formation of a special unit of approximately two battalion strength for commando operations.” It went on to ask all English-speaking soldiers, sailors, and pilots who wished to volunteer to report to Skorzeny’s training center in Friedenthal.

  An irate Skorzeny went directly to Hitler to have the notice withdrawn, but the damage had already been done. As Skorzeny knew it would, the paper fell into Allied hands. It was the sort of intelligence coup that G-2s such as Oscar Koch live for. And while Skorzeny insisted that Operation Greif be canceled for this blunder, the Führer personally requested that it proceed. Skorzeny reluctantly complied. In the weeks of training that followed, his men were sequestered in a special camp, set apart from other German soldiers. To brush up on their English, they conversed with captured U.S. soldiers and pilots in prisoner-of-war camps. They learned to chew gum like Americans, how to swear, and casually banter using American slang. One German soldier who made the mistake of writing home about his whereabouts was immediately shot.

  The sound of the 75 mm guns thundering up and down the lines signals that the time has come for Operation Greif to begin. It is a moment that fills Skorzeny with equal parts euphoria and dread.

  The legendary commando is known for his ruthless
ness, which is just one reason the Allies have named him the most dangerous man in the German army. But he is also extremely loyal, and fond of his men. As Operation Greif commences, he fusses over them, quietly worrying about their fate. Every mission has peril, but this one is especially dangerous, as all the men in Skorzeny’s elite commando unit know.

  If captured by the Americans, they will not be treated as prisoners of war, as regular German soldiers would be.

  By disguising themselves as Americans, Skorzeny’s men of Panzergruppe 150 are deliberately violating the Geneva Convention. If captured in German uniforms, they could expect to spend the rest of the war in U.S. captivity, but at least they would live.

  But Skorzeny’s soldiers will be wearing U.S. uniforms, and therefore will be classified as spies. The punishment for being captured while wearing an enemy uniform is death by firing squad.

  Skorzeny gives the order to move out.

  * * *

  Confusion reigns. The narrow, muddy roads leading from Germany into the Ardennes are now clogged with German tanks, trucks, horse-drawn carts, and halftracks as thirty German divisions flood toward the American lines. The front extends north to south through three countries, meaning that Wehrmacht forces are now on the attack in Germany, Belgium, and Luxembourg. Their movement was supposed to be lightning quick. But with the roads too narrow to handle all the German vehicles, the biggest surprise attack of the war has become an enormous traffic jam.

  Still, Hitler’s gamble is achieving some success. The American army has been caught off guard. Even as German infantry creep through the forest in their winter-white uniforms, the highest levels of Allied leadership still believe that Germany is incapable of launching a major offensive. Some dismiss this as a “spoiling attack”—a diversion that weakens the American lines by forcing them to shift men and supplies from some other location. Convinced that an attack through such wooded and mountainous terrain is impossible, Dwight Eisenhower considers the Ardennes to be a place of rest and sanctuary for weary American troops. “Of the many pathways that lead to France, the least penetrable is through the Ardennes,” notes Gen. Omar Bradley, the commander in charge of the American front lines. “For there the roads are much too scarce, the hills too wooded, and the valleys too limited for maneuver.”